


Three Months

by DubiousSparrow



Series: River Town [4]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Adam Parrish Loves Ronan Lynch, Alternate Universe, Anniversary, M/M, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24643519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DubiousSparrow/pseuds/DubiousSparrow
Summary: It's their three-month anniversary.  Fluffy fluffiness living in Fluff Town.Part of my Lawyer Adam/Bartender Ronan AU.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: River Town [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775125
Comments: 31
Kudos: 158





	Three Months

**Author's Note:**

> I keep a note on my phone where I collect words I love -- it came in handy for naming cocktails! :)

Adam liked to sit at the bar and listen in on the conversations around him. People inevitably commented on the incongruous pair serving drinks – Ronan, tall and sleek in his black jeans and tank; Blue in her ripped and re-stitched neon top, patched cut-offs, and brightly printed tights. Like a crow and a tiny tropical bird. The only similarities they shared were a preference for combat boots, and a disdain for drunken idiocy.

Malory had decided to stay longer in England than expected, and Blue’s brief stint filling in had turned into a semi-permanent job. Adam had expected it to be a terrible idea, and in the first few weeks had waited for the meltdown. 

In actuality, though, they were a perfect team.

Adam watched as Blue easily ducked under Ronan’s outstretched arm, and popped up again to refill a glass. They had quickly perfected moving around each other in the small space – it was like a dance. At times, Ronan would actually lift Blue and set her down on his other side. This always resulted in a quick punch to his kidneys, but then they’d keep working as if nothing had happened. They had some sort of psychic connection – each knew which customers to steer toward the other, when to pull each other back, when to egg each other on.

Blue had even added to the drinks menu. She came up with the names of her specialty cocktails, and Ronan would add a description underneath each one on the old chalkboard. The descriptions never indicated what was actually _in_ the drinks, however, and the duo refused to tell anyone who asked.

_The Oubliette._

_Fall in the hole and be forgotten._

_The Murmuration._

_Like being pecked to death by a bunch of tiny birds._

_The Palimpsest._

_What’s hidden underneath will knock you on your ass._

_The Misanthrope._

_Fuck off._

They were hugely popular. People ordered them and passed them around tables, sipping and betting on what was in them. Some of the wilder guesses Adam had overheard were cough syrup, paint thinner, grape Jell-O, and melted gummy bears.

No one could pry the recipes out of either of them.

“Trade secret,” Ronan would say.

“Old family recipe,” Blue would add.

And they would grin at each other as frustrated customers wandered off.

Other than Ronan and Blue, Adam was the only person in town who knew all the ingredients. Blue hadn’t even trusted Gansey and Henry to keep their mouths shut. But Ronan liked including Adam in the secret, especially since he had taken to making the Murmuration for Adam at home when he’d had an especially long day. They’d collapse on the couch together, and Ronan would stroke Adam’s hair and tell him all the weird things Noah did that day, and about the guy Blue kicked out of the bar for making a lame Coyote Ugly joke, and about Henry losing two hundred bucks to Calla at the Yarn Shop poker game the night before.

Adam loved the routine they’d fallen into in just a few short months. Spending most nights at Adam’s apartment, but crashing in Ronan’s loft above the bar a couple times a week. Hanging out with Blue and Gansey and Henry and Noah. Adam liked to think they were just as much his friends as they were Ronan’s at this point. 

One Sunday afternoon when the bar was closed, Adam had let himself in (he had a key now) and climbed the stairs to the loft to find Ronan holding his hair clippers to Blue’s head. She sat in the kitchen, an old towel thrown over her shoulders. He was giving her what looked like an undercut. Ronan’s own head was freshly shaved. There were tiny dark hairs all over the kitchen floor.

“You guys couldn’t have done this out back…or in the bathroom…?”

“Better light here,” Ronan responded looking up and flashing a grin at Adam.

“You’re next Parrish!” Blue crowed.

“Touch his hair and I’ll fire your ass,” Ronan muttered.

Adam smirked. Ronan was constantly playing with his hair. He’d let it grow just a little too long for a corporate attorney, but it was worth it for the way Ronan would card his fingers through it as they fell asleep.

“New look?” Adam asked, setting the groceries he’d picked up on the counter.

“While I was shaving his gigantic head, I started to think how good it must feel to be free of all this,” Blue pulled at the long locks still sitting atop her head, “This is just Phase 1. It’s too cold to take it all off. But maybe in the Spring…”

“Don’t be a wimp, Maggot,” Ronan squinted at the straight line he was buzzing across her skull, “shave the whole fucking thing. You’ll love it. Just wear a fucking hat.”

“Uh, do you think maybe you should mention it to Gansey and Henry before you shave your _entire_ head…?” Adam asked carefully.

Ronan straightened up and gave Adam an appalled look, “What the fuck, Parrish. I thought you were a feminist?”

“Yeah,” Blue narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you saying I need my boyfriends’ permission to do something to my appearance? To _my_ body?”

“Nononononono,” Adam held his hands up. Ronan and Blue stared at him, waiting for him to dig himself further into the hole.

“Totally up to you. Completely your decision. And it looks awesome, by the way, not that my opinion matters,” he skirted around the pair to the fridge, trying not to track hair everywhere.

“Damn straight,” Blue responded looking mostly appeased.

Ronan just huffed his residual disapproval, and returned his attention to Blue’s head.

“Oh, I forgot to ask you, Maggot – can you work solo next Tuesday?” Ronan asked as he finished the haircut and took the towel off her shoulders.

Blue stood and shook her hair out, “Yeah, sure, you guys have a hot date?”

Adam poked his head up from behind the refrigerator door, “Yeah, do we?”

Ronan stared him down, “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t ask that.”

Adam stood and thought. OH. Right. It was there three-month anniversary. Fuck, he’d nearly forgotten.

“Therrrre it is,” Ronan said as he saw the realization in Adam’s eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing?” Adam asked.

“Nope. It’s a surprise. And also, I don’t know yet.”

Adam grinned, “In that case, can I come up with something?”

Ronan tilted his head and smiled, “Sure, Parrish, knock yourself out.”

Oh fuck. What had he just gotten himself into.

**

Their first month-aversary had snuck up on both of them. They only realized later that they’d actually managed to do romantic things by sheer coincidence. Adam hadn’t thought of giving Ronan a key to his apartment as being an anniversary thing, but it had worked out that way. And Ronan hadn’t planned on saying ‘I love you’ to mark the occasion, but there it was.

The next month, Adam hadn’t expected anything – he’d never marked these milestones in other relationships, not to mention Noah had been living with him at the time, and cramping their style somewhat. But one morning he’d rolled over in bed to find his boyfriend gone, replaced by a cinnamon roll sitting on a piece of messily ripped-out notebook paper. He picked up the gooey roll, unsticking it from the paper.

 _Two fucking months and somehow we have a fully-grown child. Love you_.

Adam had found Ronan in the backyard, wrapped in a blanket and drinking coffee. He’d pulled him back inside and into bed where he bestowed his own anniversary gift. Adam had caught Ronan staring into space with a loopy smile on his face several times that day.

Adam was determined to plan something special this time -- something memorable for this man who had come into his life and made every aspect of it better.

Adam sat in his office overlooking Central Park. He was googling ideas for anniversary gifts. There was nothing for month-aversaries, but the traditional three- _year_ gift was leather. It signified that a relationship had become flexible and durable. The modern version was crystal – beautiful but fragile. Adam didn’t think they were fragile. And if ever there were a fitting material to give Ronan Lynch, it was leather.

Adam scrolled through pages of leather jackets.

No, Ronan had a perfectly beaten up leather jacket that he loved.

A leather bag? But to carry what? Ronan carried a wallet and, begrudgingly, the phone Adam had forced on him.

A new wallet? Boring.

Shoes? No.

Ronan wore those leather bands around his wrist. Could Adam give him more of those? It didn’t feel like enough somehow. 

Ronan had changed _everything_ for Adam. How could he find something special enough to show him how much he meant to him?

Adam sighed and closed the browser window. He had another week to figure this out. He got back to work.

**

That night Adam climbed up the winding hill from the train station toward The Raven. The weather had turned cold, and the wind coming off the Hudson bit through his wool coat. And then he saw it. It was in the window of one of the small stores along the main street. It was perfect. It was exactly what he wanted to give Ronan. He opened the door and stepped in.

**

The morning of their anniversary Adam rolled over and threw his arm over Ronan’s bare chest, “Happy three month-aversary,” he whispered, brushing his lips against Ronan’s ear.

“Mmmpphh…” Ronan responded, still mostly asleep.

“Wake up, dickhead, and tell your boyfriend you love him before he has to go to work,” Adam murmured into Ronan’s neck.

“Love you. Don’t go to work…” Ronan yawned and put his arms around Adam, hugging him to his chest.

“Yeah, that sounds like something I would do,” he kissed Ronan’s neck before extricating himself from Ronan’s arms, earning him a very disgruntled noise.

When Adam returned from the shower, Ronan had managed to get out of bed and was pulling his jeans on.

“You could’ve slept in,” Adam said, pulling a suit out of his closet.

“Yeah, well somebody insisted on waking me up, so here we are,” Ronan muttered. He pulled a clean tank top out of the drawer Adam had given him, “It’s fine though – I gotta do inventory today to make sure Blue has everything she needs for tonight.”

“She’ll be OK on her own?” Adam asked.

“Sure, she’s done it a couple times already, and Tuesdays are slow. She’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t start any fights.”

Adam arched an eyebrow at Ronan.

“Yeah, fine, I’ll ask her to not start any fights.”

**

Adam spent the day half-assing his work and reviewing his plan for the evening. 

He was going to cook.

He hoped it wasn’t a horrible idea.

He hoped it would be good.

Fuck, he hoped it would be _edible_.

Ronan had been “teaching” him how to cook. In practice, that meant Adam would stand behind Ronan while he cooked and ask a lot of questions while half-listening to answers and grabbing his ass occasionally.

But he felt like he had picked some things up. And he was aiming for as simple a menu as possible.

A roast chicken. Baked potatoes. A salad.

He had spent far too long deciding on the dishes, and then reading every food website on the subject of roast chicken he could find. In the end, he threw his hands up and went with Julia Child’s recipe. Because Julia Child.

Adam snuck out of work and caught an early train out of the city. He ducked into the small grocery shop on his walk home from the station, craning his neck around while he gathered ingredients, paranoid that he would run into Ronan coming down the aisle. 

He was sure Ronan expected him to make a reservation at one of the fancier restaurants in town. This would be more special though. This would show Ronan how much Adam loved him – he was willing to handle a _raw chicken_ for him. And maybe poison them both in the process. That was love.

Adam carried his groceries home, still alert and scanning to make sure Ronan didn’t see him. Once home, he changed out of his suit and into jeans and his old Coca-Cola tee shirt. It was so old the fabric was like tissue paper. It was what he wore when he needed comfort, and he was getting more and more anxious.

Things started out a little rough. 

The chicken was unwieldy, and Adam felt like he was getting raw chicken juice -- what the internet told him was the equivalent of liquid death -- _everywhere_. 

He wrestled the chicken into the roasting pan, and tucked the wings and legs in like Julia told him to. He hit pause on his laptop with his elbow to stop the video of her burbling happily into the camera as her chicken took on a pleasingly neat shape.

His chicken looked _mostly_ like hers. Good enough.

He cleaned his hands and the counters, making sure to get everything he might have touched with his chicken-y fingers.

Then he rubbed the chicken with butter, and salted it. 

Fuck, he had to wash his hands _again_. Cars were so much easier than food. You could just stay dirty _until you were done_.

He pulled the potatoes out of the bag, scrubbed them, and wrapped them in tin foil. OK, things were getting easier.

By the time he was chopping vegetables for the salad, he had found his rhythm. It was actually kind of fun. And it felt good to be doing this for Ronan. He made a simple vinaigrette that Ronan had taught him and set it aside.

OK, the chicken and the potatoes were in the oven. The salad was in the fridge. The wine was chilling. And he had… 20 minutes until Ronan was supposed to come over.

Adam collapsed on the couch and let out an exhausted sigh. 

God, this might actually work.

**

Ronan arrived right on time, dressed slightly nicer then he normally would -- dark jeans as per usual, but a pair with no rips, and a soft black sweater. Adam smiled and wrapped his arms around him. 

“You’re looking very…casual…” Ronan said, raising an eyebrow at the Coca-Cola tee shirt, “Are we having our anniversary dinner at the diner?”

Then he stilled, and sniffed the air, “Holy fuck, did you actually COOK?” 

Ronan’s eyes were wide with surprise, and possibly, Adam thought, fear.

Adam pinched him lightly at the waist, “Yes, I cooked, and don’t give me that look. It’s going to be great… it’s going to be…. fine?”

Ronan smiled and kissed Adam softly, “It _will_ be great. I can’t believe you cooked for me. I don’t care if we end up eating peanut butter sandwiches.”

Adam leaned his head on Ronan’s shoulder, “I really tried. And I think the ghost of Julia Child was watching over me, because so far the chicken looks and smells the way a chicken is supposed to look and smell.”

“I love you,” Ronan kissed Adam’s ear just as the timer went off in the kitchen.

“Well, come on, let’s see if we’re going to the bar for burgers, or if this actually worked,” Adam pulled Ronan into the kitchen.

**

Adam didn’t have a dining table, so he’d set up the kitchen island for them to eat at. He lit candles, and poured the wine. Ronan sat at the island, gazing at him while he brought the food and set it before him nervously.

Ronan surveyed the chicken and potatoes and salad, and looked up, “You’ve actually been learning shit when we cook together. This looks good, Parrish!”

Adam let out a relieved breath, “Don’t congratulate me yet… let’s see how it tastes.”

Ronan carved the chicken, and Adam was thrilled that it wasn’t pink inside. The potatoes were a bit overdone, but still tasty. And the salad dressing tasted just like when Ronan made it.

They ate and talked and drank wine, and Adam thought back to three months before, to a life that was so much emptier.

Ronan looked thoughtful as well. He leaned across the table and kissed Adam softly, “Remember when you told me you never cooked in this kitchen?” he asked, his voice low.

Adam flushed, “I believe I do. This island has seen… a lot of things…”

Ronan rubbed Adam’s knee, “Three months. It went by fast.”

“Mmhmm” Adam hummed in agreement, “We’ll hit a year before you know it.”

Ronan smiled and nodded, reaching out and stroking Adam’s cheek, “Thank you for doing this. I know how you feel about cooking, and that you would do this for me…for us…” Ronan looked shyly down at the floor, “I got you something too, you know…”

Adam grinned, “Oh yeah?”

Ronan looked up at him, “I actually hid it here earlier this week. Hold on, it’s in the bedroom,” Ronan jumped up and jogged out of the kitchen. He returned with a flat box wrapped in dark blue paper.

Adam ripped off the paper and pulled off the lid. It was a framed photo of the two of them. The frame was made of dark brown leather Adam noted with a smile – clearly he wasn’t the only one consulting Google for gift ideas. 

He remembered the night Blue had taken the photo of them at The Raven. It was a candid shot of Ronan leaning into Adam across the bar. Their heads were bent together and they were laughing. She had blurred the movement of all the people around them – as if they existed together outside of time, alone together in a crowd.

Adam felt his throat tighten.

“Ronan… I love it,” he looked up at Ronan who was watching him nervously.

“Yeah?” Ronan said.

“Yeah,” Adam nodded and leaned in to kiss him.

“Thank fuck,” Ronan exhaled, “You’re not an easy person to buy gifts for, you know? But when Blue showed me the picture, it felt right…it felt like us.”

Adam blinked a few times to keep the tears from falling, and Ronan laughed softly and blotted at Adam’s eyes with his napkin.

“Asshole,” Adam said fondly.

“Mmmhmm,” Ronan agreed.

“I got you something too,” Adam said and reached under the island, pulling out the gift.

“You didn’t have to do that. You cooked!” Ronan argued without any heat. He took the gift bag from Adam, and reached inside. As he pulled out a book his eyes got wide.

“You remembered this was my favorite book growing up…” Ronan said, his voice rough. He slid his fingers gently over the dark green leather. _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ was embossed in gold across the cover, “I gave the family copy to Matthew when he went away to college…”

“I know. I thought you should have a copy around again,” Adam smiled, “You know, I’ve never read it. I thought maybe we could read it together at night…” he looked down at his lap, feeling a little embarrassed and not quite knowing why.

Ronan swallowed hard. Now it was his turn for heavy blinking. Adam laughed and wiped at Ronan’s eyes. He batted them away with a huff.

“We’re so fuckin’ sappy. If Blue saw this she’d kick both our asses,” Ronan grinned, straightening his shoulders and clearing his throat.

“Pshhh… whatever… you think someone who dates Gansey and Henry doesn’t have a high tolerance… hell, a _predilection_ even, for sappiness?”

“Tell her that. I dare you,” Ronan said.

“I don’t have a death wish,” Adam stifled a yawn.

“All this homemaking has clearly worn you down. Let’s go to bed,” Ronan stood up and pulled Adam into his arms, kissing him. “Thank you for tonight.”

“Thank you for the last three months,” Adam said softly, leaning into Ronan’s chest.

**

Adam woke the next morning with Ronan curled around him. _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ sat on the nightstand next to Ronan. He’d read to him until they’d fallen asleep, Adam’s head on Ronan’s chest.

The last line he clearly remembered before drifting off echoed in his head.

_Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end?_

He turned his head and looked at the framed picture of them that now sat on his dresser.

He didn’t think the fall would ever come to an end. He didn’t want it to. He pulled Ronan’s arms tighter around him, and closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this made me realize that I don't think I've ever read Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, so that's currently being remedied.


End file.
